Celebrate LOVE

"What the World needs now, is LOVE sweet LOVE,
It's the only thing that there's just too little of..."
lyrics by Hal David, music by Burt Bacharach.

I have always loved Valentine's Day.

Making home-made Valentine cards was an activity we enjoyed immensely. Red, pink and white construction paper hearts, bits of lace, buttons, paper doilies were carefully stuck onto folded paper with gobs of white paste. We could hardly wait to get to our two-room school to hand them out to our friends. However, there seemed to be an unspoken contest of who would get the most cards indicating who was the most popular/ most loved. Looking back on this day, I'm sure some of the children didn't get many, perhaps none. They must have felt very unloved on that day of love. I wish I could have a do-over and make sure everybody in the room got one.

My husband was a school teacher so his classroom was abuzz doing the usual valentines activities. I was a stay-at-home mom expecting our second child. He forgot to get me something, not even a card and he knew he was in big trouble when he saw the special dinner and candles. He apologized and apologized, but I cried so uncontrollably that the poor guy didn't know what to do. I have grown up since then, but he has never forgotten it since..in fact he is more passionate about celebrating now than I am. Ha.ha.

But there can be so much more to this day than just the romantic kind of love. It represents the one thing that every human being craves for....more love.

Followers of Jesus should pounce on this holiday spreading love around liberally, not just the gushy stuff but the love that God has put in our hearts.
Jesus said, "By this will all people know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."John 13:35
It bothers me greatly that an event like Halloween is growing so rapidly in popularity. Why not the day of showing an extra amount of love to everyone? Random acts of kindness should abound.

I think Valentines Day should be declared a National Holiday, so I am turning on my red christmas lights and sticking red hearts on my garage door. Just call me a crazy romantic.

Music Memories

Today I took a walk down an "aural" memory lane. I spent two days in a little storage room filled with tattered old hymnbooks, old typewritten chorus books, cassette tapes and other assorted items. A filing cabinet contained years and years of church choral music & books, which have seen very little use in the last few decades. As I opened each folder, the notes and melodies floated from the pages and came to life and I could hear the rich sounds of the choir singing in our little church where the acoustics were so good that no microphones or booming speakers were necessary.
The children's musical book, "Bullfrogs & Butterflies" reminded me of the "Sonshine Singers" choir that I led for many years. How keen the kids were as we presented it several times. "Friends" was a youth production presented thirty years ago when our daughter was in highschool. The robust Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus" just jumped off the page. The full harmonies of "O Lord, Most Holy", "Sanctus" and "With A Voice Of Singing" rechoed in my ears.

It was enjoyable to recall all those beautiful songs and good times, but I came away with a deep sense of sadness and loss.

Somehow, I felt like I needed to find a graveyard for these rich musical treasures, thank God for the precious memories and say my last goodbyes.

Healing

In my Bible reading through the book of Matthew & Mark, I am amazed again at how many times Jesus healed the sick, whether they were blind, lame, demented, dumb, deaf or even dead in some cases. I'm sure he didn't heal every single person in the crowd because everywhere he went, people came in droves with all manner of ailments. But there were many who were miraculously freed.
Oh, I wish, so much, that it were so today, right now, right here!

The Dash

In this last week, I attended two funerals of wonderful ladies who fought a hard battle against that awful big C. Both have won and gone triumphantly, to their heavenly home. Their life stories were told by family and friends, of how they touched so many people in such wonderful and amazing ways.

When I wander through a cemetery, I always take note of the years engraved on the headstones, but never really noticed the dash between the years. 1948 - 2008.

A poet, Linda Ellis, has written a beautiful, thought-provoking poem called "The Dash".
Here are a few lines from it.

That dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own;
The cars, the house, the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So, when your eulogy is being read
With your lif'e's actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

(you can "google" the entire poem on line)

Small Wheels & Big Bumps

The snow in B.C. is beautiful and it really looks like a white Christmas. However, snow presents some challenges for drivers on the sideroads and freeways. Our little street seldom gets a snowplow and has never been sanded, but we get out just fine. Last night, I was clearing the light powdery snow from the sidewalk in front of our property, because last year about this time I got a real reality check for how important this act is.

It happened like this...

My granddaughter, was spending the afternoon at an office very near my house. When her mother phoned to say that she would not be able to pick her up after work, I gladly volunteered to do that for her.

Since my van does not have a lift for her power wheelchair, I decided to walk to meet Tessa and we would come back to my house. As I started walking I realized we had a problem. The main roads were clear, but my street was still slushy and snowy and many of the sidewalks had not been cleared. So I returned to my house for a shovel and proceeded to remove snow and chip ice patches all along the route. (major job)

The ride home was more than challenging for Tessa, because every patch of ice was scary and snow clumps resulted in painful, bumpy hurdles.

Please remember this. Disabled people are virtually shut- in their homes till the snow disappears unless someone kindly clears their path for them.

A Story

A story is told of a multi-millionaire who lived in a beautiful vast estate. Besides all his wealth, his life revolved around his son. They enjoyed a wonderful father-son relationship and travelled all around the world. Their passion was collecting art, paintings and sculptures done by famous artists. Years went by and then the son felt the call to enlist in the army to defend his country.
Father was disappointed, and at first resentful of his choice.

The father missed his son greatly and was devasted when he received a call saying that his son was missing in action. Soon it was confirmed that he had been killed while trying to save one of his comrades.
In deep grief, the father mourned this great loss and went into seclusion. Day after day he sat alone in the vast rooms of his mansion, staring at the priceless paintings he and his son had purchased. They held no charm, worth or interest anymore.
When there was a knock at the door on Christmas morning, he instructed his butler to tell the caller to leave, as he was not receiving visitors. The servant came back saying, "Sir, it is a young soldier, who wishes to speak to you." He was allowed entrance.
He said, "I am the soldier, your son gave up his own life for."

The lad stayed for hours telling the father of many occasions where his son had put his life on the line for his fellowmen. How he had talked lovingly about his father and the good times they had together collecting all those treasures of art. Pride for his son grew in the dear father's heart.
The soldier shared that he, himself, also loved art and then, somewhat embarrassed, showed the father a painting he had done of his son. The resemblance was faint but the father graciously received it as a precious gift.
Several months later, the old man passed away. Instructions in his will said that an auction of all his artworks should be held on Christmas Day. The news spread, and art collectors from around the world arrived for the grand affair.

The auctioneer began with the first item - the soldiers' painting of the son.
The buyers jeered and heckled, calling out for the real art. The auctioneer replied, "The will states that this one must be sold first, so what am I bid?"
There was a long awkward silence. No buyers were interested. Finally a poor, elderly neighbour put up his hand. "Will you take ten dollars?" he said hesitatingly.

Going Once, Going Twice, SOLD!

Anxious buyers were now ready to begin bidding on the valuable art and were shocked when the auctioneer proclaimed, "The auction is now over. The will states that whoever buys the painting of the Son, gets it all!"

MY SUMMER PRAYER

Thank you God for the summertime. Thank you for good family camping interaction with the energy of youth and the laughter of children. Thank you for family reunions.

Thank you for the mix of sunny & rainy weather. Thank you for books written by inspiring writers, who opened my mind and imagination to new (aha) thoughts and transported me temporarily into another world. Thank you for reminding me of your never-ending forgiveness and love while reading "Redeeming Love" by Francine Rivers. Thank you for special moments of meditation in your holy word. Thank you for the chance to worship in that tiny little country church at Grindrod. Thank you for reminding me to trust you more during scary moments, (which I'd rather not repeat, please). Thank you for breath-taking scenery of lakes, mountains, flora & fauna. I stand in awe of your greatness. Thank you for protection on the busy highways. I am so blessed and I thank you, thank you, Lord. Amen.